Born and Raised
by Flinx-ikariluv10
Summary: She was taught to hate him. But she never did. She was taught to think one way. But she never did. She was trained to love chaos and madness. but she never did. Then she was taken. And everything that she was ever taught was proven wrong. But would she be able to handle it?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Hey, everyone. This is a little surprise for one of my best friends. I don't own this franchise,but I do own this plot line( well kinda). So, without further a do, this story. :)**

A shadow stole through the night, with catlike grace. Her black hair flew out behind her, as she leaped from building to building, cautious as to not shake the package that she clung to her chest. Thinking about it almost brought her to tears. How could she have let this happen? She wasn't prepared for this and what would happen if she failed. All her usual confidence and "swagger" was gone. This _thing _was actually _breaking her._ So that's why she made this decision. It would be better that way. For both of them.

Soon, her destination was in sight. An alleyway behind a toy store. After pacing for a while she found what she was looking for. The night made it difficult to see but there it was. A small brick that was a slightly different color than the rest and protruded outwards. If you weren't looking for it, it would have been impossible to find. The woman pulled it out and typed into the security pad behind it. Looking around to make sure that no one was there, she pressed enter and a series of bricks pushed away from each other, forming a neat pathway leading underground into the sewers. Quickly checking the bundle she held in her arms, the woman slid through and landed in the disgusting water below. She kept her hands on the walls as she navigated the endless tunnels. She stopped when she felt a door handle on the side of it. Taking a deep breath, and opened the door.

"CATS!", screamed Harley.

She was in a dimly lit room with a computer in the corner. There was a doorway leading to the rest of the hideout, but it was barred by planks and nails. Harley was sanding up, arms wide open and a smile on her face. Her multi-colored hair was held up into pigtails, one was red and the other black. Her simple black mask was on, but she wasn't wearing the white makeup. She was sitting on the table in her pajamas, as if she had been waiting for Selina for hours. She probably had been.

"What's this mysteri-"

She was cut off by Selina's heartbroken face. She was about to ask what the problem was, but Selina had already taken the package from her chest and unwrapped it. She walked over to the table, and carefully dropped the bundle on it.

"Look at the BABY", screamed Harley, "I want one. Can I haz it? Oooh, Mistah J will love it. Gimme!"

"Harleen!", commanded Catwoman.

But Harley ran towards and sniffed. Her face brightened, slowly she lifted it by the foot and giggled as the poor thing cried out. Suddenly, the baby was gone, and Selina was perched on a shelf, with the baby held protectively in her arms.

Quietly, she murmured, " She is so small. Only 2 months, you know. I've tried dropping her everywhere. At a bus stop once, but when someone picks her up, I rob them and take her back. I can't help it. That's what happens every time. At the hospital, on doorsteps, in parks, on rooftops, at the police station. I take her back. I don't know why. I've been too busy with her to do anything, much less think about anything. She is so small, but she does so much damage. I can't sleep. I can't eat. I can't do anything! She was a mistake. A mistake that never should have happened. A mistake that breaks my heart when I am with or without her. A mistake named Anastasia Leigh Wayne..."

" Plus you're figure is gonna be a bitch to get back," chirped Harley, " Wait did you say 'Wayne'? Because that's-"

Selina hopped down from from her perch and put a finger over Harley's mouth. She spoke in hurried whispers.

" I can't be near her. Please. Take her and give her to Ivy. I know that she's always wanted a child of her own, since the experiments. Under no circumstances are you to keep her. I would give her to Ivy, but... For the meantime, take care of her. But hide her from the Joker, until she is in Ivy's hands. Okay?"

With a quick kiss to the baby's head, Selina was gone. Probably from a different place, than where she entered from.

Harley, now left all alone was giggling uncontrollably. She had a baby. Fuddy Duddy Kyle wasn't gonna ruin this for her. Mistah J would be happy. And she would be the greatest mother in the whole wide world! Ivy didn't need a child. Harley would bet that Pamsy didn't even want one like she did. So it was decided. Harley would raise Ana as her own, and no one wold be the wiser.


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: I feel so awesome right now! Anyway, its not because I own Batman. That was my clever way of saying that I don't own Batman. Frowny face.**

_This is going to be fun_, I thought to myself. It was going to be fun killing hordes of people. People with lives and families. The chaos and the screams are a thrill. Its another food source or another addiction. It is what I was trained to want. This is exactly what I was trained to think. And its what I convinced myself to believe. With a deep breath, I zipped up my suit and stepped out the door into an open room.

It was fairly large and like the rest of the facility, it had no windows. White and white and more white were splattered across the wall, giving a feeling of cold and detachment, which was actually pretty close to the amount of love and care in this pseudo-family. It was the first room that I ever remember seeing and where I had my first happy memory. Well, I assume it was a happy memory. I don't really have anything to judge it against. So maybe it was just the one with the least amount of pain for me. It was Christmas time and I was 7. It was our first and only real Christmas. Harley had made a turkey? No, she had butchered a turkey. That was the only time that I remember praying. For the sake of the turkey... As I touch the walls, I giggle a bit at the ridiculous notion. Praying! I've realized now that the world was painful and tedious and if someone had cared, it wouldn't be so bad. I almost continue in my thoughts of theology, but then I catch my self in the mirror.

I looked... I don't really know. Was I pretty? It wasn't my place to say. I've only ever seen people behind my mask. It doesn't impair my vision, but their faces are always fixed in terror. There are the unlucky many, whose faces never changed and never would again, but judging their beauty seemed a bit wrong. I think that Harley was pretty in an exotic way. Her red and black hair flying everywhere when she flipped upside down, and every angle on her face was sharp and straight. But my face was the exact opposite. It was _plain_. In my opinion that's worse that ugly. At least you get noticed that way. But being plain was like being the fruits at a child's birthday party. Sitting next to chocolates and cake and chocolate cake, it would never be noticed. I had pale skin, which was partially due to the lack of sunlight inside the facility, and maybe the fact that Harley had pale skin. My two redeeming qualities were maybe my hair and eyes. I've spent hours trying to decide what color my eyes were. Its a mix between brown and blue and gold. That much I know. I wonder if-

" But Mistah J!" whined a petite woman. She was upside down and in full costume. She was standing in front of a tall menacing man,who was also in costume. But he always was. I saw them in the mirror and hesitantly turned around. If I was quiet, they wouldn't notice that I was here. I liked it better that way. This way I was finally away from Harley's insanity and jealousy. She never liked me very much, for as long as I remember, she would avoid looking at me or scoff in my general direction. No, wait. Not for as long as I remember. It happened when I was three. When she introduced me to a tall and dark and terrifying man, who would drop in often enough to become my idea of a father figure, but not so often as to make me love him as one. But I had to pretend, because that was my life. One big circus, with performers and one sadistic host.

Joker was Joker. He had no sense of morals and lost his ability to love as a true human being, but in a sick and twisted sense, he loved me. And I suppose I loved him. Like a victim of a kidnapping begins to identify with her kidnapper. Except the kidnapper was my father, and unlike the victim, who has hopes of being saved, I was stuck with him forever. I don't understand how my mother, I use the term loosely, could love him so much. Without care for her own daughter. I knew for a fact that she loved him, much more than me. Honestly, she must have regretted having me. Because when I'm around, he forgets about her and puts his heart and soul into training me to become more like him. She must feel left out and I would pity her had I not read about real mothers, who love their children and keep them out of trouble and keep them safe. This was the exact opposite of what Harley did when she decided to keep me here.

But that was in the past, and I certainly knew my future. My future of crime and anarchy and hedonism, I was almost looking forward to it. The joy of freedom and individualism. But the one remaining human part of me, was disgusted by it. As I get older, it gets quieter and quieter. But it was important that I cling to it. It was the one thing that kept me from being a monster. The one thing that kept me human.

"Antsy! And where do you think you're going!" Joker yelled.

I couldn't help it. After 13 years of this, when I heard his voice I jumped and flinched. It was involuntary, I was just conditioned that way. Thankfully, I didn't have to answer because he continued on.

"Do you know what today is? That's right! Your 1000th heist. Its gonna be a great shindig! Ain't it sweets? I heard even Batsy is gonna be there! AHAHAHAHAHAHA"

He did continue on, but I had stopped listening. I had heard it before, just because I was good at what I did doesn't mean that I wanted the recognition. It doesn't mean I was proud of it. So I let him rant, and I smiled and nodded, giggling the way I know he loved and I was gone. He sent me off on my solo mission, but I still had a wire on me in case of trouble.

Soon, I was near the bank. Before I went in, I took account of my surroundings. Points of access and exits, and chance of success are all the things that I had to figure out. I checked my makeup, fluffed my skirt, put new bullets in my gun and I was physically ready. I'm never mentally prepared for this until after the fact. Butt since Joker was watching, I had to do this. To save myself pain.

"Get down! Make it easy on yourselves, and give up now! Simon says laugh." The character I had to play disgusted me. With the smiles and fake giggles. But people wouldn't listen and I was forced to point my gun at a man's foot and shoot. He screamed out in pain and all I could hear was people laughing on account of my command. It was forced and painful,but it felt good sharing the insanity. Forcing them into being like me. To be sadistic and cruel and to laugh at pain and danger.

I had just loaded the bag when a dark shadow fell over the bank. I knew who it was and I didn't stick around. He had already blocked the door. And true to my anarchic nature, I found myself running up the stairs and to the roof. My gun was prepared in my hand, just as I burst through the doors, I was hit.

Rope had bound my legs and sent me toppling forward. Before I hit the ground, I leapt onto my hands and ripped it. I turned to face my attacker, the Great Batman himself. I jumped towards him and with a flip landed where he had been just a moment before. My hands were behind my back locked in his visor grip. Quickly, I calculated a way out. Only one came to mind, I swept my legs underneath his sending him to his back. Almost immediately, we were both back up and I was sending punches and kicks in his direction, but he kept dodging and pushing me to the edge of the roof. And I slipped. I grabbed the closest thing to me. His cowl. I looked into his eyes and I was shocked to see my own. He looked so familiar but I didn't know why. The next thing I knew, he had pushed me and I was hurtling to the ground.


End file.
